‘People don’t usually threaten to kill someone because of that,’ Sam said bleakly.
‘I’m much more worried about Zoe,’ Isa continued, ignoring his words. ‘The gallery is her retirement plan… was her retirement plan.’
Sam ran his hand down her back. ‘You don’t need to worry; Zoe doesn’t need to worry. I’ve already put out feelers for new premises. It’s time Zoe expanded anyway.’
‘She won’t take charity,’ Isa smiled gratefully, but her eyes were worried. ‘You’ll have to talk to her, frame it so she doesn’t think it’s a handout.’
He smiled, pulling her to him. ‘An investment, then.’ He felt her nod against his chest, and he pressed his lips down onto the top of her head. ‘Isa. We have to talk about the threats to your life.’
She was silent for a moment, then looked up at him. ‘Do you really take them seriously?’
‘I do.’ The blood, the knife, her ruined body in that cartoon. No. No.
Isa pulled him over to the couch. ‘Well, look. The police know about it so…’ Her voice trailed off as she saw the strain that was evident on his face. ‘Sam, I’ll be fine. Please, stop worrying. If we let this ruin…’ She stopped and leaned over, pressing her lips against his.
He tried to smile. ‘I cannot bear the thought of something happening to you.’
She stroked his face. ‘Nothing’s going to happen to me. It’s just some douchebag trying to harass us.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
She kissed him again. ‘If I thought for a second I was in actual harm’s way, I’d be kicking someone’s ass.’
Sam gave her a genuine grin then. ‘I’d like to see that. Perhaps I could watch, throw in some Jell-O?’ He pulled her onto his lap.
‘Pervert,’ she kissed him, and he laughed, tightening his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.
‘I’m going to sexually harass you right now,’ he murmured and swiftly maneuvered her onto the floor, his fingers undoing her jeans, tugging them down.
She wriggled with pleasure. ‘Like I said, pervert… oh God…’ His fingers were stroking her clit, and she sighed, closing her eyes. His lips were against the soft rise of her belly as he continued to stroke her, his tongue tracing patterns on her skin. Maybe she was right. It was these moments that were real when it was just the two of them, skin on skin.
Isa moaned as his lips trailed up her body until finally, they found hers, their tongues weaving and caressing the others. Her nipples were hard against his chest, her fingers tangled in his hair. He slid his hand between her thighs, found her already wet.
‘I want you inside me… now.’ she gasped and, grinning, Sam thrust her legs apart, freed his cock from his pants and plunged into her, brutal, masterful strokes, making her limbs quiver and tremble. His kiss, however, was tender; he swept her damp hair from her face as he moved above her with his eyes never leaving hers.
‘I love you, Isabel Flynn,’ and she smiled so beautifully he wanted to scream it again and again.
They came together, sweating and clinging to each other. After he carried Isa back to bed, curled up with her as exhausted, she fell asleep in his arms.
Left alone with his thoughts, Sam chewed over the possibilities. He’d hire protection, move her into his apartment in the city. He’d hire private detectives, find out where Casey had been the night before and ask Isa about ex-boyfriends. He didn’t want to scare Isa or her family, but he knew he could rely on Cal to help him out. If Isa knew she was being watched by bodyguards… he knew better than to invade her much-loved privacy, even if it was to protect her. They’d have to be discrete. No-one would get to her if he could help it.
No-one would take her away from him.
Zoe, her kind face strained, shook her head. ‘No. No way.’
A week after the fire, they were in her kitchen, Zoe was baking, cookies, cakes, comfort food. Isa recognized she had gone into what Isa and Seb called her 911 mode: feeling powerless to turn back time, she made sure that there was plenty of food for everyone, a sense of home, of security. It was one of the many reasons that Isa loved Zoe. The kitchen, which had smelled of the smoke from the fire, was now filled with wonderful scents, spices, fruits, fresh bread. Isa grinned to herself; she knew Zoe was worried about her because she was letting Isa steal cookie dough from the bowl without arguing or batting her hand with a spatula.
Now, though, the older woman had a frown plastered on her face as she stared at her young charge.
‘I won’t take charity, Isabel. You should know better than to ask me that.’
Isa put a hand on her arm. ‘It’s an investment, not charity, Zo. Sam’s offering to go into business with you.’
Zoe wasn’t convinced. ‘Usually going into business means a fifty-fifty split. Sam’s offering to give me the money, not loan it. I know he’s family but still.’
Isa flushed a little. ‘Family?’
Zoe smiled at her. ‘He might as well be. I’m sure he will be at some point. Don’t you?’
Isa smiled shyly and changed the subject. ‘So, talk to him. You need something, Zo; I know you. You’ll be bored as hell at home. Let Sam finance a new gallery.’
‘I can’t take his money, Isa. I have my pride.’ She looked out of the window to the remains of the adjoining gallery. ‘I consider myself lucky that the fire didn’t damage the house or your place. The insurance will give me enough to set up another place in town.’
‘Sam wants to be involved, though, Zo. He wants to finance a bigger place, finally give you the gallery you deserve, the prestige you deserve.’
‘That’s my point – give. Sam – and you – are not responsible for what happened.’
Isa sighed and got up to get a glass of water. She could feel Zoe watching her, curious. She and Sam had decided not to show nor tell Zoe about the death threat, the hideous cartoon. The fewer people who were affected by that particular horror, the better. A knife in the belly. Isa felt a wave of nausea and swallowed hard, downing the water in one. Zoe’s eyes narrowed.
‘You got anything else to tell me, Isabel?’
It was hard to hide things from Zoe, but Isa shrugged. ‘Just some nutball. I’m just sorry he had to take it out on your gallery.’
‘He?’
Isa shook her head. ‘He or she. I don’t know who would do this, but the police can handle that. At least, the insurance people won’t be able to argue.’
Zoe rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair. ‘That’s what you’re worried about? What about your work?’
Isa shrugged. ‘It really doesn’t matter. I’m sad that I lost my pieces because I enjoyed doing them but as for the actual exhibiting of them, well. It was nice while it lasted but you know me, Zo, I never wanted that life, that attention.’
‘You seemed okay with it last night.’
Isa smiled. ‘Pure adrenalin. But I think, maybe, this was a sign. I like my job at the college, Zo, even if Sandy makes me crazy most of the time. I have no need to be well-known. I just caught up with Sam’s plans – I’m pretty sure he was only doing it because he loves me anyway.’
Zoe grinned at that. ‘I like hearing you talk like that. That man is crazy about you; it’s written all over his face. Oh, to have a man look at me like Sam looks at you.’ She clutched dramatically at her chest. ‘Young love…’
She said it with such drama that Isa broke into giggles and got up to hug her. ‘He must be crazy. Look, will you just think about letting Sam invest? I feel guilty enough about the fire, please just consider it.’
He stayed away from the gallery in the days that followed the fire. There was taking risks and then there was taking dumb risks. He couldn’t be seen to be anywhere near her. It had been such a thrill to see them, the night of the fire, so terrified, so distraught. He’d seen Isa spot the canvas with the cartoon and had sent the text to Sam straight away. Full impact. He grinned as he remembered their horror, their fear. The cartoon was so graphic, so bloody that they could not
be in any doubt of his intentions.
He closed his eyes now, standing in his shower, tugging on his junk, thinking about killing her. She was such a small woman that he would be able to overpower her easily, but he wanted to kill her slowly, painfully, savor her screams and see the agony on that beautiful face as he murdered her.
But first… he would enjoy tormenting them, driving Sam crazy with fear. He’d terrorize the whole family, bring them to their knees before he took Isa’s life. He closed his eyes as he neared orgasm, imaging plunging his knife into her soft belly, hearing that first gasp of agony, of shock. Soon, Isabel Flynn would be dead, and Samuel Levy would be destroyed. That would be his crowning moment, his reward for all that had gone before.
As he jerked off, his hand moving faster and faster, he came as he imagined what her last breath would sound like, his climax making him sob with desire and frustration and bloodlust.
Sam sat in the small bar with Seb and Cal, distracted, thinking about Isa alone on the island. Well, not alone, Zoe was there but if someone broke in if someone had a knife…
‘Hey, old man. Stop being a party pooper.’ Cal flicked water at his older brother, who smiled apologetically. Seb and Cal – who had become fast friends – had dragged him out to the bar on Isa’s insistence. He had hardly left her side since the fire, but as much as she loved him, he got the feeling his constant presence was…not irritating as such but…
‘Nope, he’s gone again.’
‘Yep. What a loser.’
‘I think he’s in a trance.’
‘Let’s see if we can get him to do stuff.’
‘Like what?’
‘Hit on the waitress.’
‘Would never work. He’s too snatch-ma-tized.’
‘Dude, that’s my sister.’
‘Sorry.’
Sam raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m not deaf, you fools.’
Cal leaned over to him. ‘Welcome back.’ He studied his brother’s eyes. ‘What’s up with you? You’ve been like this since the fire.’
They hadn’t told Seb or Cal about the threats, but now he just wanted to talk it out with someone. Isa was refusing to discuss it at all, in his opinion, she was burying her head in the sand. He looked at Seb and Cal now; his brother; her brother. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt that they would feel the same as him. It could only help, the extra vigilance.
‘It’s this…and you cannot tell Zoe, under any circumstances.’
Seb grinned. ‘Jesus, you haven’t gotten my sister preggo have you?’
Cal chuckled, but Sam shook his head, unsmiling.
‘No. Someone is trying to kill her.’
It was almost comical the way the two younger men’s faces changed.
There was a long silence. Seb paled, his skin going a dark gray; Cal stared at Sam in disbelief.
‘If this is a joke…’
‘It’s not. The fire was the first time I knew it was real, that he or she meant to hurt Isa. Whoever it was left a message.’
He pulled his phone and showed them a photo he’d taken of the canvas. Seb blanched, and Cal looked at it with horror.
‘Jesus…’
Seb suddenly got up, pushed his chair back and sped to the restrooms. Sam followed him. Seb was throwing up, great heaving sobs coming from him. Sam patted his back awkwardly as Cal pushed his way in and stood to watch them with frightened eyes. Seb wiped his eyes and, moving to the basins, splashed water on his face.
‘Sorry,’ he smiled ruefully at the brothers. ‘It was just… Jesus… who the fuck would draw something like that? I hope you showed it to the police.’
‘Of course. It’s not just that. At the same time, I got a text message, a photo of Isa taken seconds before, asking me…’ He felt himself choke, coughed, glanced at Seb’s pale face, ‘…asking me if I’ll miss her when she’s dead.’
Seb dropped his head into his hand and moaned. Sam looked at his silent younger brother, who was stone-faced, shoulders rigid with anger. ‘Say something.’
Cal shook his head. ‘I don’t get it… who…?’ Sam saw the light of realization come into his eyes. ‘You don’t think…?’
Sam shook his head, cutting him off. Seb was heaving over the toilet bowl again, but Sam still didn’t want Cal to say her name out loud, didn’t want the questions that he knew would come at the mention of her name.
Casey.
Later, when Seb had gone back to the island, Sam and Cal went back to the penthouse.
Sam poured large glasses of scotch for him and his brother. Cal studied him.
‘So, Casey. It could be her; she’s vindictive, spiteful enough. Stupid enough to get herself arrested for harassment.’
Sam nodded. ‘It is her kind of crazy.’
‘Did you tell the police that?’
Sam shook his head and sat down sighing. ‘I should have… it’s just… I haven’t told Isa about Casey.’
Cal frowned not understanding. ‘So? Tell her now.’
‘I can’t. Shit, I messed up, Cal. Casey came to the gallery a few days before the fire, was basically rude as hell to Isa. I got there as she was leaving, but neither of us said anything. When she left, Isa was upset, and I didn’t want to make it worse by telling her ‘Yeah, hey that was my ex-wife whom I’ve never mentioned before.’ Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now, telling her would just open up a whole mess of crap. She would doubt her trust in me. I honestly… couldn’t bear that.’
He drained his scotch, reached for the bottle, but Cal deftly whisked it away.
‘No more. Getting wrecked isn’t going to help any of us. Yeah, you’re right, it was stupid. Even if you don’t tell Isa who Casey is, the police need to check her out. Are there any other messages?’
Sam showed him the strange messages he’d received. Since the fire, there had been only two more: Her blood on my hands… soon and How many times should I stab her?
Cal swore. ‘Sick motherfucker.’ He glanced up at Sam. ‘I gotta say. Although I think Casey is capable of sending these, I doubt she’d ever have the guts to actual hurt Isa. It could be just talk.’
Something lifted in Sam’s heart then, just a little hope. He nodded. ‘You might be right. I did go see her a couple of days ago…’ – Casey’s eyebrows shot up then, and Sam put up his hands – ‘Just to warn her off. I asked her about the texts, and she denied it, but who knows? We know she’s a masterful liar.’
‘Yeah, she is. Listen, for some reason; I believe her. These texts, the cartoon… this, is something…’ He trailed off, shooting Sam a loaded glance.
The hope vanished. ‘What?’
Cal blew out his cheeks. ‘This is a really intimate way of killing someone, you know? This isn’t the way you’d murder a rival; this is the way you’d kill someone you were obsessed with. Stabbing someone is personal. Bro, I’m sorry but I think this is a man. Someone who wants Isa, sexually - the old ‘if he can’t have her…’ thing. He could have been following her for years, and when you two started seeing each other, he flipped.’
Sam felt the blood drain from his face. ‘Fuck.’ Cal watched him in silence then stood, coming to put a hand on his shoulder.
‘Look, I know how hard this must be for you especially after …’
‘Don’t say it. This is not the same as do not say it.’
Cal chewed on his lip. ‘The thing is, Sam, we have all the resources we need to keep her safe in our little circle. It’s not like we can’t hire a fleet of bodyguards, yeah, I know,’ he said when he saw Sam start to protest. ‘But until we find whoever it is, she’ll have to suck it up. You’re with her all the time, practically, and Seb and I can take shifts of just hanging out with her. We’ll talk to her employers...’ He broke off as Sam put up his hands.
‘Yeah, okay. You’re right; we have to be proactive.’
Cal smiled. ‘That’s more like it. We’ll catch this fuck, Sammy. Whatever he’s planning.’
Sam nodded once. ‘He’s not going to get near her.’ He stood, star
ted to pull his jacket on, ready to leave. ‘I need to get to her now.’ As he pulled open the door, he turned, studied his brother, his face all hard angles and fury.
Cal nodded at him. ‘What are you going to do?’
Sam’s eyes were ice cold. ‘If he touches her, he’ll know the full force of my revenge, Cal. If he comes within fifty feet of her, he’s a dead man.’
Isa had fallen asleep on the couch by the time he got to the apartment. She had pulled the comforter up to her chin. Sam crouched down, watched her for a few moments. Her skin, that gorgeous dark honey color, the slight flush of her cheeks, was more beautiful than any piece of art he’d ever seen. His heart pounded with the ferocity of his love. He gently pressed his lips to her skin, felt her stir, sleepily search for his lips with hers. He felt her smile as they kissed.
‘Hey, you.’ Her voice was soft. ‘I missed you. Welcome home.’
Her words sent his spirit soaring. Home. She was his home now. ‘You look cute when you’re half asleep.’
She chuckled, stroking his face. ‘How was your day?’
He shrugged, slipping his hand under the comforter and around her waist. Sleep had made her floppy and pliable, and he easily pulled her into his arms. ‘Better now I’m with you.’
He kissed her, lingering, his tongue exploring her mouth, his fingers knotting in her hair. Isa sighed happily as he lay her on the carpet, pushing her t-shirt up so he could rest his head on her bare belly. He felt her stroke his hair, looping her tiny fingers through the tight, short curls of it. He pressed his lips against her skin, tracing a pattern with the tip of his tongue up and down her abdomen. His fingers went to the tie of her wrap-around skirt, pulling them open and sliding the fabric from her.
‘Sam…’ She wanted him to kiss her and he moved so he could look into her eyes as he did. She smiled up at him, unbuttoning his shirt, running her hands over his bare chest.
‘How have I not known you my whole life?’ She kissed him. ‘I’ve never felt this close to anyone before… anyone…’
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